Very Wicked Things (25 page)

Later, when Dad went up to shower, she insisted on loading the dishwasher, and I watched her, wanting to tell her about Emma. But, I’d made a promise to Emma, and I wanted to do right by her. She wanted to wait about telling people until she was ready to confront the two guys who might be the father.

She needed time
, she’d said.

“Dad called the garage and got your car fixed last night. It’s parked out front,” I said as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel.

She blinked, and I wondered if she was battling with that pride of hers. She surprised me though. “That was fast. And sweet. Will you tell him thank you for me? I don’t have the money to pay him now, but I will in a few months.”

He wouldn’t take her money, but I nodded. “Even if he is my dad, I know he’s a good guy, and he likes helping people.” I paused. “How’s Sarah doing?”

She immediately stiffened. “She’s fine, but I need to go home and check on things. And I’ll probably need to teach her ballet class this afternoon because I don’t think she’s up to it.”

“It’s still early,” I added. “Why don’t you stay a while and relax—”

“I can’t,” she said, her face distracted as she checked her messages on her phone.

My insides twisted. I just…I just wanted more time with her.

I found my balls and went with it.

“Let’s hang out today,” I said. “We can go to the movies or go to Portia’s for a cupcake.” I paused, unsure. “I—I remember you like the lemon flavored ones. Especially the icing.” I distinctly remembered me licking it off her lips one night.

Bleakness flickered in her eyes. Making me feel empty, too.

I took a deep breath. “I remember everything we did, Dovey. Every date, every kiss, every whispered word,” I admitted, my voice low, filled with—need? Shit, I couldn’t tell anymore. I just knew I didn’t want her to walk out that door because I sensed something was wrong with her, and she wasn’t telling me.

But maybe she just hated me.

She paled. “Cuba, you’re killing me. I’m not going to be lured in by you, so yeah, I don’t want to hang out and reminisce with you about our past. If you’re bored, you should call Emma. She’s your life now.”

Fuck. That hurt.

And right then I wanted to pound on the damn table and tell her that I didn’t want Emma. That I was
not
the father of her baby. That I wanted
her
. I’d never stopped.

But, I reeled myself back because her love for me was gone.

She gathered her purse up and turned to leave.

My stomach got in knots. “Dovey, if you need anything, will you let me know? Please.”

Her lips tightened. “I’m fine.”

I knew
fine
meant you were so not okay, but I let it go. I deserved her mistrust and all the shit that came with it.

And so, I walked her out and watched as she drove away. She had her life and I had mine.

I’d made sure of that.

“
I wasn’t afraid of anything except my father.”

–
Dovey

MY PHONE PINGED with a message during dinner with Sarah. Claiming a headache, I rushed up to my room to read it. I’d been waiting for this all day.

Warehouse tonight at midnight
it said. Of course I knew who it was from.

By eleven-thirty that evening, Sarah was in bed, and I was in my car headed to Big Daddy’s Pawn.

Somehow, I had to convince him to wait for the sale of the house.

And if he didn’t agree, then I had another idea. A desperate one.

I knocked on the warehouse door and Blondie let me in, his face hard. No empathy there.

“He’s waiting in the back office,” he said, shooing me past men working on cars.

Head down and eyes averted, I made it to the office door, carrying the duffle. A bead of sweat popped out over my lips and I hurriedly licked it off.

The bodyguard who stood outside the door let me in. I walked inside, the snick of the door behind me sounding final. I could die tonight. Right here in this office.

My gaze found Alexander’s. Once again, he sat behind his desk, looking handsome wearing a brown tailored suit. It seemed the seedy underworld hadn’t taken its toll on his outward appearance.

“Katerina,” he said, rising from his seat and coming around to meet me. “You came.”

“Didn’t want to die,” I said, entering and taking a seat. He sat back on the edge of his desk, and I estimated there was at least three feet between us. I wanted a continent.

My shoulders felt tight and I rolled them.

He crossed his hands, resting them against his thigh, seeming normal and sane. But I knew he wasn’t. “I hope you have good news for me, yes? Did you find new buyers at your fancy school?”

I wiped my clammy hands on my pants. “No one wanted the eight-balls.”

A moue of disappointment settled on his lips. “That is unfortunate. And hard to believe.” He picked at his manicured nails. “It saddens me to have to do what needs to be done, but you’ve left me no option. Whatever happens is because you allowed it. Not me. I am not an unreasonable man. Remember that.” He smiled. “Did you know that every Monday at nine, Sarah and her friend…Heather-Lynn I believe…walk to the coffee shop on Palmer Street for a book club meeting. They stay for an hour usually. It’s five blocks from your house. Anything could happen to them on the way home. They could be mugged or raped or worse.”

“Yes,” I whispered, imagining them laughing as they made their weekly run. Only this time they’re followed by Blondie and Red.

“That’s tomorrow, and I assure you, one of them will not return home. Because of you. Because you can’t find
one
of your filthy rich friends to buy product. You don’t love your family very much, do you?” He shot me a look loaded with disdain. “You didn’t love your mother either.”

Panic.
The room spun, corkscrewing like a top. I leaned over the bag and put my head between my legs, breathing, breathing, taking in air because it was all emptied from the room by his presence. I closed my eyes and concentrated, hating to be weak in from of him. And the guilt hit. I hadn’t protected mama. I’d been paralyzed with fear, afraid he’d turn on me, make me his punching bag or worse.

“Sit up, please. You’re annoying me,” he bit out, his voice like sharp like a knife. “Where is the tough girl I raised?”

I sat up, nostrils flaring. “You didn’t raise me.
Never
.”

“Ah, there she is. Much better,” he said, walking toward me.

I clenched my fists and drew up, waiting for him to hit me or something, but he walked past me to the door, the swish of his expensive slacks loud in my ears. “Leave the product on the desk, please,” he said, opening the door.

This was too easy.

I swallowed. “Wait, please. Maybe I can try again. Maybe—”

He slapped his hand against the door, and I jerked in my seat. “There are no second chances. You’ll face the consequences like everyone else.”

I stuttered, “I—I have another way to get you your money.”

He leaned his broad shoulder against the door and waved his hand at me. “Keep talking.”

“I can’t sell drugs.” I fought back nausea. “But, I—I can sell myself.”

I don’t think many people surprise my father, but those words did.

His eyes flared. Straightening up from the door, he came at me fast, making me jump at the suddenness. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me up out of my seat and toward him, until we touched, hip to hip. Revulsion swept over me because he had a hard-on.

“Is my daughter a whore?” he said in a low tone, a gleam in his eyes that tripled my fear.

I shook my head furiously, fighting down the urge to scream.

“Why then?” he asked, eyes narrowed, hands tightening on my wrists.

I licked my lips. “At least with my body, it’s mine. My decision. And I’m not hurting anyone else. And if I get caught, the prison time is less than selling drugs.”

“Ah, how very naïve you are. There are much worse things than jail.” He ran his nose up my neck. “And your heart is flying, little Katerina. Like a little bird. I don’t think you quite have what it takes to be a whore.”

“Not everyone wants a girl on the corner,” I managed to say.

He considered this. “True. I have clients who require unique things. They have…how do you say….
proclivities
?”

I couldn’t stop the shudder that racked my body.

“Are you still a virgin?” he asked, interest flaring.

I met his gaze head-on. “Yes, I—”

“Don’t lie,” he said, placing his hands around my neck with enough pressure my eyes bulged. Blood rushed to my face, and my mouth opened to suck in more air. Seconds passed and black dots danced in from of my eyes.

“
Are
you a virgin?”

I couldn’t speak, but I nodded, my mouth gasping for what little oxygen he allowed. The room spun again and darkened this time. I estimated I had less than a minute of staying conscious.

“If I wanted a taste would you give it to me?” He backed me up against the wall, hands still firm around my neck, pinning me like a butterfly. “Maybe you’d like that? I could show you things. Teach you how to make men happy.”

I hated him. I did
. And that emotion gave me a glimmer of strength, and I clawed at his hands, my nails digging into his flesh, trying to pull them away. He slapped me, my head slamming against the wall. Lights went off and on, and I slumped to the side, still gasping, gasping for air.

He jerked me up straight and pressed his lips against mine, and I fought to turn my head, but I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
Yet, it wasn’t a kiss. Not at all. It was a promise of retribution.

I struggled against his chest weakly, every nasty thought I’d ever had about him rising up in my head. I screamed inside at the perverseness of him.

He released me and I fell straight to his feet. Like I’d been spit from the bowels of the sea, I gulped in air, my hands trembling as I clutched my stomach, holding myself together.

I tracked him as he moved back to the chair behind his desk. He feathered elegant, ringed fingers through his hair, straightening his disheveled appearance.

With my hands pressed against my swollen mouth, I lay there for at least two minutes, filling up my lungs, testing my limbs and gathering myself. As soon as I had the strength, I crawled to the door and pulled myself up, body shaking. He’d done much worse to others. I’d gotten off easy.

He glanced up at me. “Did you get new tires, Katerina?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Of course it had been him because he was watching me. Or Red and Blondie were. My mouth dried at the implication, worrying about Spider and Cuba.

He shooed his hands at me, like I was a gnat. “You may go. I will be in touch with you when it’s time.”

Did this mean…

“Your clients?” I asked, tasting the words and wanting to puke.

He smiled broadly. “Yes, Katerina, I think we can take care of your debt in a most agreeable fashion.”

I left his office, knowing I’d barely survived his wrath.

One of them will not come back
, he’d said.

But now? I’d struck a deal with the devil in an Armani suit. I’d agreed to do a terrible thing.

And my body revolted against the images in my head, of me with men like my father. I wanted to take an axe to the idea of it, chop it down until it bled, but
there was no way out
.

And then, for some stupid reason my head remembered Cuba. Maybe it was because I was terrified Alexander would find all the people I cared about and hurt them.

Maybe it had been the whole virgin question.

I gripped the steering wheel and drove home, my heart aching at the final memory of my past…

After practice on Friday, Cuba drove us out to White Rock Lake for our big night. I’d been anticipating this weekend for a while, my body hungry to belong to him.

But things weren’t going as I’d planned.

He spent most of the drive on the phone with his dad who’d had to fly out unexpectedly for business. He seemed exasperated as he called his mother to check on her. It seemed she wanted Cuba to come home.

“I have plans,” he said to her. “I’m on a date with Dovey. Didn’t Dad tell you?”